It's Family Business

Chapter 39: Talking to oneself builds personality

Chapter 39|Talking to oneself builds personality

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There comes a time after the high, when reality comes crashing down and all of a sudden you find yourself wanting to be hit by a train.

Did I want to be hit by said train? Undoubtedly yes.

After kicking the balls of a guy who would most definitely skewer me like a roast chicken, I wanted to be hit by a train, then later crushed under a stampede and just because I'm feeling extra suicidal, maybe even have someone scrape my body off the tracks and put me in a room with the worlds noisiest eater.

Then...then I would gladly just...die.

But right now I needed to get the hell away from Faust and his office or else I'd be tied to the back of his car by a rope whilst he drives around the city like a maniac.

Or something else greekly barbaric like that.

   I raced upstairs like a madwoman, avoiding anyone and anything, slamming the door to the guest room shut. Turning I slid to floor, backed up against the door with my knees pulled to my chest. Was I hyperventilating? It's quite obvious, I ran up a whole flight of stairs in under five seconds. Also the adrenaline of kicking a guy in the nuts really made my heart pound. I could feel it in my throat and cheeks.

I let my face fall into my hands, before beginning to slap my forehead repeatedly. "Stupid, stupid, stupid." Look, talking to myself makes me feel better. It builds...personality. And insanity, but that's not important right now.

You know what is?

Trying not to get horny over the psycho downstairs who was t-minus three seconds away from fucking me on his desk. Would I have said yes...? Um...next question.

My body felt tingly and flustered. I could feel goosebumps still lingering on my skin and when I closed my eyes, I felt the ghost of his kisses up my neck and jaw. I caressed the skin behind my ear, sighing to myself as I remembered what it felt like to be caged between him and that sexy desk.

Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no oh no no no no no.

I was not having withdrawals. Nope definitely not. Pfft, I so did not want to go back down to his office and finish what he started. Like sex? What even is that? Never heard of her before.

Banging the back of my head against the door seemed like a good idea literally one second ago, but then I winced and rubbed the sore spot cursing myself for trying to do what all those idiots did in the movies. I think I concussed myself.

I dragged my ass from the floor, studying myself in the vanity mirror opposite the door. My shoulders shook with suppressed laughter, then I began to outwardly cackle like a witch. Wheezing to my reflection like a maniac. It's strange. I felt so free for the first time in a while.

After calming down, I took a deep breath, wiping my clammy hands on my thighs panting like I just ran a marathon. Hell, climbing up those stairs maybe I'd ran like half.

Just when I began to trudge to the four poster bed that looked like a cloud, a sharp knock sounded on the door and I froze.

"You idiot," I whispered to myself, turning slowly to the door, staring at it like it was some alien object. The knock came again and I jumped. Oh come on, it's just a door and quite possibly the reason for your death on the otherside. No biggie, be a big girl and open it. "You big fat idiot."

I rubbed my palms again on my school skirt, completely forgetting about the missing sock again. I needed to buy a new pair. Wait, was it even worth it? What if I died right now. Then I'd die with one sock. What a joke. I bet forensics would take one good long look at me (because I'm hot) then walk out the door saying I deserved it.